


Dogs Of War

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Afghanistan, Age Difference, Alcoholism, All I know about the military comes from TV and Movies - this is purely FICTION, Alternate Universe - War, Derek is Alpha instead of Laura, Derek is affected by alcohol and drugs by choice., Drug Abuse, Emotionally Crippled Derek, F/M, Hale Family Feels, In this story wolves can control their healing ability, Infidelity, Iraq, M/M, Marine Corps, PTSD, Peter is bitter but mostly harmless, Scott is a raging A-hole, Stiles is 15 Derek is 26, WAR HAPPENS IN FLASHBACKS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-06 11:11:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 13,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/735008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>~ Cry Havoc and let slip the dogs of war</i><br/> </p><p>Derek Hale is sixteen when his 21 year old girlfriend decides to burn his family alive, leaving only him, his sister and uncle behind. They don't blame him, he knows, but things are different, he can feel it in every gesture and every look as they leave behind their decimated home, he can see it in the way his uncle looks at him, face dark, half covered in burn marks that he refuses to let heal, mostly, he blames himself. </p><p>He is eighteen when he gets lost on his way to college and signs his life away, head shaved and boots polished, he is no longer just a boy, he is a man. One of the few, one of the brave... a scared little boy just trying to escape.</p><p>Seven years, two wars and three tours latter, see him come back to the little town he ran away from, broken, battered and with more baggage than any man his age should rightfully carry. Enter Stiles Stilinski, his annoyingly promiscuous and sinfully beautiful, underage neighbor with the skinny jeans and his gaggle of stupid friends.</p><p>Turning Scott is an accident fueled by rage, building a pack? A brotherhood?.. that's something he never hoped to have again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Sterek story, this is also my first work of fiction in a fandom. Un-betaed. please feel free to mention any mistakes!

He feels the weight of the world on his shoulders as the little red sign above his head turns off and the flight attendants stand at either end of the hall giving them bright smiles, and flashing teary eyes as they clap along with the tourists in the plane traveling with them.

He swallows, hard, his throat like sand paper even when he left the heat and dryness of the desert almost a week ago. He pulls his pack from the compartment and watches as the rest do the same, all of them look haggard and tired, some most than others.

He takes a deep breath taking in the clean scent of air conditioning that mixes with the blood and sand and gun powder and weeks of BO that never leave even after they’ve had time to shower, he closes his eyes and bites back the feeling of rising vile and stands tall and proud against the churning of his stomach and the shakiness of his hands, it smells like death and sadness and anger, and way to many chemicals, but it’s ok, they have to smile there’s civilians among them, more waiting once they get out.

The door opens and they start to walk out, down the corridor and into the airport.

He’s the last to step out of the plane, accepting a ‘Thank you for your service’ and a folded crumpled note a child puts in his hand as he walks past him, his mother looking on, and Derek nods at them not uttering a word.

He’s standing at the edge of metal where the tube connects to the platform when he hears it, it’s always the same, as soon as a uniform hits the floor, the cheering and clapping and tears, the part of war that normal people get to see and be happy about.

The coming home.

The part of war that destroys Derek inside with each step he takes, heavier than the last, and he rubs his calloused fingers together, because his battle wounds come home with him, the feeling of his machine gun, the weight of the trust that was laid upon him by the men to his right and to his left. The weight of the broken promises of -It’s going to be ok- and -I’ve got you- as he watched the light leaving from their eyes, years and years, fights and fights, blue and green and brown.

He hasn’t howled in years, but he ran, like the feral beast he was.

He cried havoc and they let him pass, for he was a dog of war.

The worst kind.


	2. Come Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He can’t sleep._
> 
>  
> 
> _It’s been like this for three months now, he got a house all to himself even when Laura and Peter had told him he could -he SHOULD- have moved back to New York with them, leave Beacon Hills and the horrible memories behind._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first Sterek story, this is also my first work of fiction in a fandom. Un-betaed. please feel free to mention any mistakes!

They’re at it again, Derek notices.  He’s lost sense of whatever else he’s doing, but he’s been keeping track of the days when his neighbor’s car disappears around the curb only for a boy to stroll up to his door five minutes later to be led in by the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.

He noticed him since the first day he moved into this neat little cul-de-sac, with the overly mowed lawns and the leggy, middle age women who never failed to find an excuse to knock on his door.

The sheriff’s son was a pretty little thing; he looked too young with his big doe eyes and the ever present words slipping from his lips like rapid fire.  But looks could be deceiving, and he’d never gone close enough to know what he smelled like, probably high school though and sex, if what Derek could see and hear almost daily was any indication.

 

* * *

 

He can’t sleep.

It’s been like this for three months now, he got a house all to himself even when Laura and Peter had told him he could -he SHOULD- have moved back to New York with them, leave Beacon Hills and the horrible memories behind.

The thing is, they don’t know he has worse memories to make himself forget about the mistakes he made as a child, he can think of the mistakes he made as a man now, all the blood on his hands that he can still see some times, dripping red, so think it looks almost black.

He can still smell the smoke though, hear the cries of his family dying, but then the memory is overpower and scent becomes that of mortar bombs and oil, of flesh splitting apart by bullets and burning cars in the horizon.

He can’t sleep, so he drinks, he gets high and he watches as the kid across the street gets fucked against his window pane.

He’s made so many mistakes already.

 

* * *

 

“FUCK... shit, damn it!!” Stiles curses, tearing his lips away from Scott’s mouth and pushing a hand behind his head.

“Can’t we screw on a bed like normal fucking people dude?” He groaned, gasping when Scott’s response was to just thrust again, making his head collide against the glass once more. “Mmm shit… come on Scotty” he panted, wrapping his legs around him tighter and using his hand to try and push against the glass so he would end up with a concussion or something equally as embarrassing, it was just his luck, he’d get injured fucking his best friend.

Karma’s a bitch as they say, and well he was playing with fire here, giving Scott what Allison wouldn’t, playing the mistress to their fairy tale love story.

Scott whimpered and whined, he never really talked during their little thirsts, he just took was he needed, bite mark and scratched and kisses so hard he could taste blood.

He fucked Stiles like he wasn’t even human, just a tight hole. And then afterwards, he’d get dressed, wait for Stiles to take a shower and then they’d play video games and eat junk food, never talking about the bruises littering the pale freckled skin or the smell that lingered on Scott, the smell that he liked to carry around like a silent trophy.

“I’m gonna come” Scott almost growled through clenched teeth as he started to thrust harder, out of rhythm, not really a comment of his current partner’s ability to please him, but merely a stated warning so he’ll know to expect it.

Stiles moaned any way, knowing that it’s make Scott try that much harder “Come on Scotty” he panted, chest heaving as he forgot all about his head or the window and brought his hand back down to wrap around himself, jerking in time with his friend’s erratic movements “Mmm come on, fill me up, give me what you can’t give her” he whispered, brokenly, into his ear.

 

* * *

 

_'Give me what you can’t give her...'_

Derek tightened his grip on the bottle breathing hard through his nose and letting it all out almost in a huff, that kid was the devil incarnate, he was sure of it.

He wished he could feel remorse for what he was doing, invading a private moment between lovers, but he couldn’t help himself, there was just something about him, all that pale skin and innocent eyes that hid the wanton beauty he could see right now.

It didn’t turn him on to watch them; instead it made him irrationally jealous, he didn’t understand why, but jealousy was better than nightmares and he would take any distraction, however messed up it was.

He listed to the choked up sob as the boy, Scott he reminded himself, reached his climax and then he watched as he helped his neighbor catch his balance on wobbly legs, sweat smeared on the glass make the image distorted as they acted like nothing had happened, he watched as Scott got dressed and fixed his hair and listed to the beauty bring himself off in the shower, cleaning away the evidence of their sex.

He took a long swing from his bottle, bought that morning and already more than half empty, and closed his eyes, he let his demons come back to the sounds of fingers pushing buttons and childish laughter as computerized guns and cybernetic soldiers took to battle… to much like and yet completely different to his life.

He let himself fall into his drunken stupor and pass out, knowing the cold sweat and shakiness would get to him, he’d wake up in maybe an hour if exhaustion was good to him, cover in the stench of alcohol and vomit and his own suffering.

He deserved nothing less.

 

* * *

 

_”SEARGEANT LOOK OUT!!”_

_Derek stands, ready, against the falling stone house, this was supposed to be safe, just a normal patrol, no surprises._

_The attack had come fast and swift, his unit spread out across a two block perimeter, the scream reach his over sensitive ears Justin time for him to shoot as soon as the man and his riffle turned the corner ready to assault._

_He could have taken the shot, he would have survived he knew, but his secret was to big to let them know out here, to let it out and taking out this man meant he wouldn’t be able to take out one of his brothers, every dead, every kill… justified._

_He didn't hear it until it was too late though, the first scream and the gun shots still ringing in his ears when a truck rounds the corner and it’s a hail of bullets up on them._

_“SEARGEANT… DEREK!!”_

_Suddenly it’s quiet, way too quiet, the truck is gone and the streets are empty and he turns… he heard it, he knows he did, his name, and he’s expecting to see his private jumping off of the mangled tarp he had position himself on, instead what he finds in blood, so much blood and he’s not moving._

_He doesn’t have to go closer to know, his scent is gone, his heart beat’s stopped…_

_He called his name and could come, he couldn’t help, it’s just another death marked up to him, more blood to stain his hands with, and one more pair of tags rattling against his chest._

_Another broken promise._

He woke up with a start, short of breath, his clothes clinging to his body drenched in sweat; he’s on the floor, the bottle that had been on his hand lays broken beside him, a shard of glass digging into his arm.

He stares into the darkness of his room, he slept far longer than he’d hoped or wanted to, he can hear the soft rattling sound of his phone vibrating against some surface where ever he had left it, probably a text from his sister, he’s on 35 and counting, he hasn’t replied to one, they all say the same anyway.

‘Come back’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the only chapter that will contain graphic Stiles/Scott, from here on they will be pretty much like they are on the show with brief mentions of their affair, they are still best friends. Scott and Allison are an established couple.


	3. Superbeast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“That’s the last time you do that Stiles” he sighed, pulling at the mirror to open the cabinet so he could take his meds. “Have to stop being so stupid”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-betaed!

_~*hey, yeah-I’m the one that you wanted. hey, yeah-I’m your super beast…*~_

Stiles groaned, dragging his face against his pillow and wincing as his lip caught on a patch of drool, making his dry skin split open and sting.

_~*hey, yeah-I’m the one that you wanted. hey, yeah-I’m your super beast…*~_

“Nngh” he groaned, slapping his hand out in the dark with so much force that he ended up on the floor, flailing as his arms and legs tangled in his covers.  “Uggh… Crap!” He sighed, letting his head drop back, defeated as the song went on, his radio alarm mocking him from where it stood above him on the night stand.

“Who the hell plays Rob Zombie at five in the morning?!!” he whined, scrunching up his eyes against the sudden light that filled his bed room.

“You’re the moron that programed the station” The sheriff said, chuckling as he walked over to turn the damned thing off, gazing down at his pitiful looking son.

“Get up, I made breakfast, go eat before it gets cold and get ready for school” he said, walking back out already pulling his uniform off as he went on his way towards his own room, late night shifts allowing him just enough time to see his son stumble his way out of bed, a moment that if he was honest, was pretty much the high light of his life. He loved the kid, with all his hart, but damn if it wasn’t entertaining to get to see those little moments when the boy just didn’t shine with grace at all.

Not that he normally did either way, but school day mornings? Those were gold.

“I LOVE YOU TOO DAD!” Stiles called after him still lying where he had fallen, eyes closed now also covered by hand as he tried to catch just a little bit of that sweet, sweet feeling that was the awesomeness of sleep.

 But alas it was too late, the moment was gone and he could already hear the warning *beepbeep* of the radio indicating his alarm was about to go off again, and he really was in no mood to find out what other psycho song the ass-crack-of-dawn VJ had chosen to torture his audience with this morning.

He groaned again, stretching and jumping up to his feet, dumping the mess of sheets on his bed and yawning, he scratched at the dried drool on the corner of his mouth and rubbed his growling stomach that demanded nourishment.

“Holly shit, ok I get it we need food” he said rolling his eyes, blinking a couple times to adjust and stopping on his tracks suddenly when he noticed the lights on in the house across the street as he was about to move, a person just standing there.

He frowned and raised his hand curiously; waving at the dark figure he couldn’t really distinguish (hey, just because his neighbor was a weirdo didn’t mean he had to be rude... right?) in the glare of the artificial light that cut through the darkness of the street.

He lingered a second, waiting for a reaction but the figure just stood there, Stiles shrugged and yawned again closing his blinds. For all he knew he’d just said hi to a coatrack.

His stomach grumbled again.

“Uggh fine, I’m going, I’m going” he said and maybe he glared a little at his midriff... So what? It was five-freaking-thirty in the morning, he couldn’t be held accountable for what he did at that ungodly hour. He’d just waved at a freakin’ coatrack for Christ’s sake!

He walked out of the room and down the hall, no matter how hungry he was, he really needed to pee first and he might as well shower before he got all full and lazy and decided it was totally ok to go to school reeking.  
  
“Fucking Scott” He groaned as soon as he turned on the light and saw what he looked like, and now he was so thankful that he got caught on his covers and his dad couldn’t see them.

Teeth marks along the left side of his chest and finger prints low on his right hip. “That’s the last time you do that Stiles” he sighed, pulling at the mirror to open the cabinet so he could take his meds.

“Have to stop being so stupid”

 

* * *

 

 

It was close to seven by the time the kid was making it out the door.

Derek watched as the boy got into the beat up blue jeep in a hurry, throwing a mangled old back pack onto the back seat before he was up and driving down the street, probably way faster that he should have been going inside their little private community.

He hadn’t slept again after the nightmare. Instead he had taken to cleaning up the house, a weird habit that had stuck with him from all the years of training on perfection, the floors shined, the bed was made, and even the curtains were dusted.

Everything stood at perfect angles, not a thing out of place.

Sometimes he wondered if it was some sort of OCD they developed, but he could still hear his drill sergeant in his head that first month after enlisting, after he had taken his first step into Pendleton, into infantry.

The repetitive orders and systematic check-ups and check-ins, he never wanted to be caught unprepared. He even had perfected the art of hiding all his little vices, even to himself, and he knew –Oh so well- where everything was neatly put away.

But he could pretend.

He had even grown a pair and finally called his sister, and he was so relieved when he got her machine that he actually left a message.

Using his words and everything!

That’s what he was doing when he looked up and out of his window to see the boy, Stiles, waving at him; it was only for a second and then the blinds where coming down and he could hear him moving around in his bedroom, talking to himself.

He hadn’t really been paying attention to the whole teen morning routine then, but he was now, leaning on his porch, grey Henley covering his body against the strange chill of March mornings, jeans swung low as he had a smoke and drank his coffee.

He swallowed the bitter taste of the badly brewed stuff and closed his eyes, enjoying a little moment of peace before the neighborhood burst to life around him; he opened his eyes again, against the soft morning light, into the pure white cleanness and stubbed his cigarette out between his fingers, watching the blue jeep disappear around the corner.

Back inside, he locked the door and waited.


	4. Machine-gun kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“How long?” He asked after a pause, turning his eyes back to the kid, and he was just a kid, but he could see it now, the slumped shoulders and the body that was just shy of skinny instead of fit, he looked healthy enough though, so that was good._
> 
> _Derek snorted “The service or the scar?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still un-beta I really need one!! Also Mrs.Reyes is Erica's mom, she will never be active but will be mentioned again.. maybe.

The worst days are when he wakes up sweaty, tossing and turning with an uncomfortable ache in his gut that won’t subside and wilting hardness between his thighs.

It’s only natural, he knows.

His addictions never strong enough to break him completely, and self-imposed celibacy does come at a price, yet all he can feel is disgust as he rips the soiled bedding off of his barely used mattress.

Those days he spends more time in the shower than out of it, wishing he could wash away the memory of long blond hair and sharp nails digging into his chest as easily as he can wash the shame off his skin and his sheets, it’s his curse that his body choses to remember only her, his punishment.

He washes himself over and over, face tilted up against the stream of water so he can pretend he’s not crying as vile rises up his throat and his fingers scrub harder.

 

* * *

 

“Hey! You’re the new kid that just moved across the street from me aren’t you?”

John asks with a cheery smile on his face as he notices the guy in front of him on the queue at CVS, kid can’t be more than 25 and that's just way too much alcohol he’s paying for, an assortment of Jack Daniel’s and Grey Goose bottles clicking and clacking as they’re put into bags.

The guy ignores him and starts walking away, not even bothering to get his change or his receipt.

The sheriff frowns and follows him, asking Marge -the cashier- to please excuse him and apologizing profusely for leaving his produce at the register without buying anything, it's his job after all, to look out for the community and that really was too much alcohol.

“Hey kid I’m talking to you” He said louder this time, thinking maybe he hadn’t been heard before, but really he’s noticed the boy ever since he moved in, wasting away in that house, barely seeing sunlight and ignoring everyone.

Hell he even saw him shutting the door on Mrs. Reyes’s face after dumping a full bag of sugar on her hands, he’d found it funny at the time, how the leggy blonde woman had huffed and puffed all the way back to her house outraged that her little flirting ploy had been rejected so blatantly.

The boy turned at that, an almost glare set firm on his face as he looks at him dead in the eye. “I’m no kid” he said, but really John has stopped listening, because he knew that face, those eyes.

Hale eyes.

“Derek? Derek Hale?”

 

* * *

 

Suddenly he felt trapped, this wasn’t supposed to happen; no one was supposed to know him, not anymore.

He wanted to turn back around, get in his car and drive away, past his house and the stupid cul-de-sac where everyone knew each other’s name, and right out of this little godforsaken town, out of his nightmare.

“Derek?” The sheriff asked again, moving closer, treading slowly as if trying not to scare an alley cat into running away before he could be rescued.

Derek sighed, licking his lips and steeling himself, relaxing his hands that had come up into fists, claws digging into his palms at the first mention of his name from the man’s lips.

“Sheriff” he said, really there was no use for games of pretend, he remembered the man perfectly well, the strong hands wrapping a blanket around his and his sister’s shoulders, the soft voice reassuring them everything would be ok,  as an ambulance drove their uncle away.

Sheriff Stilinski had been just a deputy back then, but Derek could never really forget the last person who was kind to them instead of pitying.

 

* * *

 

“Looks like you’ve done well for yourself kid” John said, looking around the house after Derek had offered him a drink.

They had exchanged a few words outside the convenience store, perfunctory ‘how are yous’ and sturdy handshakes, and somewhere in between a comment on the weather and how late it was getting Derek had blurted out a quiet invitation, surprising himself as much as he had John.

“Can’t complain” Derek said with a shrug, rolling up his sleeves and handing a glass to the older man, deep blue eyes following the lines and patterns of tattoos etched on his skin, and he wanted to slap himself now for forgetting they were there.

“Sorry” he apologized, pulling the sleeves of his Henley down, or trying to when a hand shot up, grabbing his left arm forearm stopping him, and he just knew.

It wasn’t the tattoos, it was the kiss.

He cleared his throat, pulling his arm away and pushing his sleeve down “That’s private” he said when the man was about to comment on it.

The sheriff nodded “Yeah, I understand” he said taking a drink from his glass, that much more aware of how tidy the house was, how silent and precise, perfect. But not just perfect, regulation perfect.

“How long?” He asked after a pause, turning his eyes back to the kid, and he was just a kid, but he could see it now, the slumped shoulders and the body that was just shy of skinny instead of fit, he looked healthy enough though, so that was good.

Derek snorted “The service or the scar?” he asked, already filling his glass up again, and John just chucked it up to nervousness at actually having to interact with people.

“Both… either” The sheriff said, curious even when he knew not to outright ask about it, it wasn’t too surprising though, after all the boy had gone through.

“Since I was eighteen, came back to California about a year after the fire” he said looking down at his shoes, his arms crossed over his chest almost trying to make himself smaller, the hand holding his glass shaking slightly.

“Your sister?... Peter?” John asked, but he knew the answer already.

Derek just shook his head, not looking back up.

“Right, well I gotta go, have a late shift tonight and I haven’t seen my kid all day” He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood “It was nice seeing you Derek, you ever need anything just come knocking ok?” he said putting his hand on Derek’s shoulder and setting his glass down on a high table.

“Sure” Derek said, no looking at him again as he walked him to the door and out of his house with a soft thank you and a definite sounding good bye.

 

* * *

 

He shuddered, leaning back against the door fully shifted, breathing in and out with difficulty trying to control it, hold it back.

He knew his eyes had been red since he mentioned the fire, he couldn’t push it down and he had fighting for control so hard.

He panted, finally letting it out, all the pain and all the sadness.

He howled.


	5. Call Of The Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Derek?” Laura asked, concerned when all her brother kept repeating was the same word over and over, No, no, no. “Der?...DEREK!” She yelled down the line, hoping to reach him somehow, knowing fully well what was happening, how he still blamed himself._

It was two weeks later that he got the call.

He was busy, in between his morning workout and pretending all was fine in his little sad life where he barely came out of his house and spent his nights spying on a teenager, he almost missed the moment when his phone came to life, buzzing against the perfectly polished wood of his dining room table.

He frowned, huffing out a breath as he stopped abruptly mid pull up, legs crossed at his ankles and the muscles of his arms bulging as he kept the position, relying only in the years of military training and conditioning rather than on the beast within him.

He sighed, letting go and falling into step, picking up his discarded t-shirt and pulling it on as he grabbed the annoying thing before his sister got tired and hung up.

“Laura” He answered, not even trying to pretend with politeness and pleasantries, he knew it was her, and he knew she’d listen to his message already, why else would she call if she hadn’t?

* * *

“Hey dad! You busy in there old man?” Stiles called out, walking into his father’s office at the station.

The sheriff sighed, getting up from where he had been bent over filing a case into his personal archive “Stiles…” John said looking at his son “What did you do now?” he asked, clearly noting the fact that it was half past noon and his child should have been at school and not loitering at his office.

“Dad, daddy, Padre!” Stiles said with a nervous smile and somewhat flamboyant hand gestures towards the older man. “See the thing is, I was minding my own business in Chem lab when all of a sudden I realized, you know what would make Chem lab more fun?!” He said wide eyed and with a cheeky expression on his face.

“Oh, God no!” John groaned, rubbing at his temples “How long are you suspended for?” He asked, hands covering his face now in frustration, as he tried his hardest to remember what a great kid he had in spite of the small challenges of his condition.

* * *

“He has what?” Derek asked somewhat disgruntled as he took another drink from his beer.

“I don’t know something about a meeting to do with the old house” Laura said, choking on her words and hoping to her brother wouldn’t catch it.

“No… no no no no” Derek said, shaking his head almost wildly as his beer bottle shattered on the floor.

“Derek?” Laura asked, concerned when all her brother kept repeating was the same word over and over, No, no, no. “Der?...DEREK!” She yelled down the line, hoping to reach him somehow, knowing fully well what was happening, how he still blamed himself.

* * *

_He could feel it before he could see it, it was like a crack in the air, like a furnace just come to life, warming up slowly, he stood still in the court, basketball bouncing away at his feet while his friends just stared at him._

_He took a sharp breath, turning towards the woods and just ran, he ran as fast as he could, trying to ignore the heat getting heavier, or how the pungent smell of burning hair and flesh reached him before the screaming started._

_He could recognize them all, mother, father, his baby sister and his older brother and he was trying, trying so hard to get home to reach them, even as tears clouded his vision because he knew, he was too far, and he was sure but he still tried._

_He didn’t make it._

* * *

“Someone moved across the street” Scott commented, fiddling with the buttons on his controller as he killed yet another undead creature.

Stiles snorted, dropping his towel on the floor and pulling on a pair on clean boxer shorts “Yeah, like three months ago dude” he said, struggling a little with his skinny jeans, hoping from one foot to the other trying not to fall over, finally losing his battle in the process of getting his head unstock from the arm hole in his t-shirt and falling to floor in a flail of limbs and muffled curses.

“Oh… I hadn’t noticed” Scott shrugged, still focused on the game.

Smiles laughed at that “Well next time we hang out, you might want to try less ass pounding and more actual, you know, hanging out” He said, getting up from the floor to pull on his sneakers.

The noise from the game stopped for a second as Scott paused, taking a breath, and as if nothing had happened, the shooting of guns and groaning zombies filled the air again. “Wanna grab some pizza with Ally and me latter?” he asked, with an honest to god smile on his face when he turned to look at Stiles.

Stiles snorted again, but he wasn’t amused anymore, it was more sad and self-deprecating. “No, that’s cool man I told my dad I was going to take the jeep to the shop anyway, you go out.” He sighed “Tell her I said hi” he said, smiling back at him, and wondering when had his best friend turned into such an asshole.

 


	6. Close Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Derek let out a shaky breath as the front door finally clicked shut behind his uncle’s retreating form; it had been a tough morning, all in all not as bad as he had imagined seeing his family again would have been tho._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first Sterek story, this is also my first work of fiction in a fandom. Un-betaed. please feel free to mention any mistakes!

“It’s over” Peter said, picking up the bottle of scotch that laid over on its side and stepping over the pungent, sticky mess that was the puddle of alcohol and bodily fluids he didn’t care much to analyze.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes “You’re pathetic you know that, right?” he said, disposing of the empty glass and grimacing as he rubbed his fingers together trying to wipe off the residue left behind, as he looked down at his nephew in distaste.

Derek snorted, looking up at the older man from where he sat hunched over in the darkness of his bedroom, his face gaunt as he tried but failed to bare his teeth at him menacingly, giving up instead and into the urge to just roll his irritated and sunken eyes.

“Just leave me alone” he said, not caring about the slur in his voice, nor the fact that he had been sitting in his own drunken filth for 2 days and obviously his uncle could tell, if the disgust written all over his face was any indication.

* * *

 

_It’s almost all a blur, sand hitting his face as his feet touch the ground, the weight of his gear a solid reminder of what this is, where he is._

_“Go, Go, Go…” He can hear the call as one by one they fall behind him._

_There’s nowhere to hide, and in the back of his mind he wonders if they actually took measures to secure the area as best as they could before sending them on their mission._

_“SERGEANT!”_

_He hears the shouting over the drowning sound of the helicopters hovering over them still, and then nothing, as the world burns around him swallowed by the blast of a grenade, no time to look for where it came from, he just runs._

_The stallion goes down in flames._

* * *

 

“Well” Peter all but groans, leaning against the window pane in Derek’s bedroom “Isn’t that a pretty sight?” he chuckles raising an eyebrow at the newly gained understanding of the strategically placed chair he’d moved back while cleaning up after his nephew’s mess.

“Are you feeling better nephew?” he asked, not moving his eyes from the lithe little body of the teenager across the street, jumping around almost spastic as he tries to put on a pair of super hero underwear, completely unaware of his audience.

“You certainly smell better” he smirked, finally turning around when the kid disappeared into a white doorway and out of sight.

“Ready to properly greet your family, or shall I just call you sister and inform her of the state I found you in? You know how much she worries” he teased, unpleasantly.

Derek rolled his eyes, drying his hair with a towel, much more sober now but no less irritated to have the older man in his house. “So, that’s it then? You sold it”

“Why dear nephew, do you really think me that crass?” Peter said widening his eyes dramatically as he brought a hand to his chest. “I merely tore down the house; I didn’t come here to aggravate you”

Derek frowned confused but curious “So, the land’s still ours, the preserve?” He didn’t dare hope, nor did he wish to ever hope that he could actually go back, but the grip he’d felt around his heart the moment that his sister mentioned the house, lessened now in the knowledge that no one else would be there, that if he ever did grow strong enough to face his demons they would still be there to greet him.

 

Peter just looked at him in silence for a minute, arms crossed over his chest. “Are you fucking him or you just like to look?” he asked, the subject of what he planned to do with the land was really none of Derek’s business, besides, his nephew lusting over a teenager was much more amusing.

* * *

 

“Damn it all to hell!!!” Stiles cried in frustration as the toaster spat out his pop tarts, half burned and entirely gross looking. “DISHONOR!! Dishonor on your whole family!” he glared at the glinting metal as if it were mocking him, and it probably was too.

 “Stupid toaster burning my food” he grumbled, flailing about the kitchen and almost falling on his ass when his father laughed at him form where he was sitting, drinking some O.J. and biting into a golden brown, perfectly toasted piece of bread.

“Oh come on!! How is that fair?!!” he said, glare now aimed at his dad as the older man watched in mirth.

“Are you just going to walk around in your underwear talking to our appliances now? Is this the real reason you got suspended, did the teacher find you glaring at the equipment?” The sheriff asked in mocked seriousness.

 

“Oh shut up, if I knew you would enjoy this so much…” He sighed, resigning himself to a breakfast of a glass of milk and day old sugar free cookie from the one bakery he allowed his dad to buy treats from.

* * *

 

Derek let out a shaky breath as the front door finally clicked shut behind his uncle’s retreating form; it had been a tough morning, all in all not as bad as he had imagined seeing his family again would have been tho.

He had skirted around the question his uncle had thrown at him and instead forced himself to actually talk to the man, he even promised he’d happily receive him in a few months when he came back into town to start rebuilding on their property.

“Fuck” He said softly, relaxing into wood of his door, letting the feeling of almost safety wash over him again now that he was alone, he still wouldn’t be able to relax, he would never be able to relax. 


	7. Contact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Derek actually laughs. Full on, belly rumbling, mouth with open, laughter._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first Sterek story, this is also my first work of fiction in a fandom. Un-betaed. please feel free to mention any mistakes!

It’s a different boy this time, Derek notes, as he leans back on the cushion of his brand new porch swing, taking a drag from his cigarette and enjoying the sting of how strong this batch of his ‘special’ mix turned out to be -and it might as well, since he paid way too much for less than five ounces-.

The new kid’s taller than Scott, all dimples and charm as he kisses Stiles cheek right at his doorstep before they disappear inside.

It’s dark, way past what used to be his bed time on school nights, but its Friday and he guesses spending the night in having sex is way more fun that going out to some party or attending some football game, or whatever it is kids do on Friday nights this days.

He sighs, turning on his side and letting his body fall back, one leg stretched out against the floor as he sways, staring up at the slightly worn wood of his porch’s roof.

He’s tired, tired and way too mellowed out to move, besides is not like he actually enjoys watching as others put their hands all over that beautiful body.

He’s still got his hearing anyway and as much as he wishes he could stop himself, when that first moan comes, he’s ready for it.

* * *

 

“Mmm ooh my god” Stiles groans, his eyes are closed and his head tilted back as he swallows. “Fuck this is soo good” he practically moans, biting down on the ridiculously moist cookie.

“Are you trying to make me fat? Is that what this is?” He says, rolling his eyes as his tongue hits on the melted chocolate center. “HOLY FUCK WHAT WITCH CRAFT IS THIS?!” he asked looking at Danny in awe.

Danny chuckles “Come on, they’re not that good” he says with a soft blush creeping up his cheeks, making his dimples look all the more cute for it. “You really like them?” he asks almost shy, he’s been nervous all day, hell he’s been nervous since he asked Stiles if he maybe wanted to hang out.

Stiles smiles “I love them” he says, leaning forward and kissing Danny’s cheek softly “Thank you”

He bites his lips, almost coy, he knows why Danny’s here, he knows the older boy has had a crush on him for months, hell even Scott has told him about it and his best friend barely notices anything that doesn’t have to do with Allison (or fucking him) these days.

“You wanna go up to my room? Watch a movie or something?” he asks, it’s really a little late to be going out now, unless they go to the lacrosse party at Jackson’s house, but there is no way he’s stepping foot in that place, he might catch something, most likely douchebaggery.

Danny looks almost sad for a second as he looks into Stiles’ eyes “Actually, I know I asked if we could hang out, but... uh well you know, Jackson’s party is tonight” he said already looking sorry, when he asked Stiles out he hadn’t really counted on his crush to get himself suspended and grounded.

“Oh” Stiles says, and he’s actually disappointed. “Hey, well that’s cool, yeah totally cool” he smiles, turning around so fast that he drops knocks his knee against the kitchen counter and drops his half eaten cookie on the floor.

“Shit… fuck…!!” he hops around trying to stay on balance while rubbing the sore spot on his knee and trying to pick up the cookie crumbs from the floor at the same time while Danny rushes to help him.

* * *

 

<p><i> Shit… Fuck… Ow ow ow!!</i><p/>

Derek actually laughs.

Full on, belly rumbling, mouth with open, laughter.

He can hear them, Stiles sniffling a little probably trying to hide his pain like high school boys will do, while the other boy keeps asking him if he’s ok, and is he really sure that he’s not mad.

There’s a slight chance that he might be high, he realizes, when he’s been chuckling for so long he didn’t even notice the boys were outside again.

He feels good though, loose, and the stupid porch swing now feels like the best idea he’s ever had, never mind that he almost threw up when he got it, thinking about how his mother used to sit on one just like it every single night.

He closes his eyes, pulling a freshly rolled joint from behind his ear and down to his lips, listening as a car drives by and then goes down the road, Stiles’ new friend leaving.

* * *

 

“Great” Stiles groans, not only did he manage to make himself look like a total idiot in front of one of the hottest guys he knows, he had also forgotten his freakin’ keys inside and thus had locked himself out of his house, in nothing but a flimsy pair of running shorts and a tank top, no cellphone to call his dad or shoes to run down the ten blocks to Scott’s house and get his spare keys from Mrs. McCall.

“Obviously this day couldn’t get any worse” he said rolling his eyes a she turned towards the street, about to crouch down and sit on the steps to wait for his dad’s shift to end or some miracle to happen that would magically open his door and then, he saw him.

Stiles was already half way through the street before he could quite realize what he was doing.

* * *

 

“Care to share one of those?”

Derek’s eyes snapped open, red and violent, and it took all he had in him to call the wolf back in before he could turn.

“Aren’t you like 16?” Derek says, taking another drag and looking at the kid, his hear is beating madly and he’s actually physically trying so hard not to breath him in, Looking from across a couple yards and through a window could never how prepare him for how fucking beautiful the kid actually was.

Stiles snorted, pulling the joint from his neighbor’s fingers and bringing it up to his lips “Fifteen actually, you gonna rat me out?” he said with a little chuckle, he could be cool if he really tried, besides the dude was hot as fuck and already half baked, and he really couldn’t just wait out on the street until five am for his dad to come home.

‘Jesus Christ!’ Derek thought to himself as he watched the way the boy licked at the corner of his mouth before blowing the smoke out, pink lips plump and supple, and he could already see a date with his right hand in the very near future.

Derek narrowed his eyes and sat up, just watching him “Isn’t your dad going to be mad that you’re smoking weed with a stranger?” He asked, letting his eyes sweep over the lithe body.

“I think he’d be angrier if he found out his new favorite neighbor has been watching me get dressed every morning”

And just like that Derek’s already fucked up world, turned upside down.


	8. Mama We All Go To Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I’m so sorry beautiful, so fucking sorry” he cries again and he doesn’t even care what he must look like, half wild, covered in tears and snot and come and he’s trying, he’s trying so hard, but everything he touches dies._
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _He shouldn’t have touched him, he should have just closed his fucking window the second he saw him that first time, he should have ignored the instinct inside him that wanted so bad, he just… wanted so bad._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY NEW YEAR! :D

 

It starts like that.

They share that joint, and then another one, all the while Stiles babbles away regaling Derek with stories from the neighborhood.

“They’re all nuts I swear!” Stiles says, his eyes are a little too wide, his heart beat a little too fast and he’s been wearing Derek’s leather Jacket for the past hour, as if his mere presence wasn't distracting enough as it was.

“Like I mean, you know Mrs. Reyes right?” He starts, turning to fully look at Derek, his small skinny frame getting drowned and swallowed by the smooth leather of his jacket. 

“Sure” Derek says, nibbling at his drying lips and trying to pay attention to what the kid is saying instead of just staring at how amazingly beautiful his smooth pale skin looks in contrast to the dark leather of his jacket, or how the hollow of his throat looks like it would taste amazing if he just leaned in and licked him.

“I swear she once went over to our house to ask my dad if she could borrow an egg in a freaking see-through negligee” He said, chuckling a little “I mean lady’s hot for a woman his age sure, but come on, right?!”

“I’d let you borrow an egg” Derek said, not even realizing that his mouth was moving at all until it was too late, and then this little space of silence grew and grew until it became an awkward monster and Derek was almost begging for the stupid rickety swing too give out on them.

And then… Stiles just burst out laughing and Derek had never seen anything like it in his life.

* * *

 

“Come on you giant pervert” Stiles says eventually, after the weed is gone and they’re more mellow than high, nudging Derek’s thigh with his wiggling naked toes. “Let’s go inside, I’m freezing my ass off out here”

He gets up then, offering a hand to the older man “Come ooon” He whines, and he might be pouting a little, maybe, but it really is cold outside and they’ve been sitting in a poorly pillowed wooden bench for almost two hours.

“You know is totally impolite to keep guests out in the porch without even offering them a night cap or whatever it is you older people do”

Derek snorts, getting up but not daring to actually take the offered hand, he can barely restrain his wolf that is now basking in the kids scent, if he allowed himself to touch, well… he hasn’t allowed himself to touch in so long that he isn’t quite sure what would happen.

“I’m not that old” He says, holding the door open for Stiles to walk into his house totally and completely calm, and he wonders why it is that this beautiful, spastic, horny teenager is the only person who doesn’t make him feel like he should keep everything at arm’s length.

“And I already got you high, there’s no way I’m letting you drink” He said, closing the door after himself “There’s only so many laws I can break in one night”.

Yet there were so many more he wanted to disregard when stiles stood taking in everything he owned, and absentmindedly taking off the leather jacket, so fucking slowly.

“You know, watching me is not breaking the law if I let you” Stiles said, looking over his shoulder, and damn it if the fucking kid didn’t know what he was doing. “A drink for each piece of clothing I take off” he said, managing to make the most ridiculous smirk look actually sexy. “I won’t tell if you don’t”

“Jesus…” Derek all but groaned, watching as his jacket fell to the floor, his dick already half hard as the mood changed and the air got thick with tension. “Fuck, kid” he said swallowing audibly, trying to make the knot in his throat disappear.

Stiles just rolled his eyes “Come on, live a little mister…” Stiles giggled softly, turning around to look at him “You know what? I don’t even know your name dude” he said, and his giggling got louder, almost out of control and Derek realized the boy was still high as a kite.

His dick went flaccid almost as fast as it’d gotten hard, looking through his window was one thing, but he had been actually about to let the drugged up boy get naked for him in exchange for a few cheap beers, he wasn’t any better than Kate had been, and wasn’t that a sobering thought.

Sobering was a stretch, because as soon as Derek managed to get Stiles settled on the guest room, and after calling the sheriff himself to explain the situation, he grabbed the first available bottle his could find and locked himself in his bedroom.

* * *

  

_His hands are shaking, her skin is so soft and he can’t believe she's actually letting him do this, she so fucking beautiful with her long blonde hair and those lips._

_When her shirt comes off all he can do is stare, his dick is so hard it hurts and he just knows that as soon as she moves, hell as soon as she looks down at him again, he’s a gonner._

_Her breasts bounce slightly when she throws her shirt away over the couch, and she grabs his hand and lets it drop softly on one perky curve, he explodes, stuttering an apology and trying to cover up the mess he just made in his shorts, blushing so hard._

_And she’s laughing, laughing and teasing “Aww poor little boy” she coos at him and leans over still laughing, almost cruel “Come on Derek, good little boys get rewards” she says and then she’s touching him, her hand wrapped around his soiled flesh, tugging and pulling and making him hard all over again._

_He feels so ashamed_

* * *

 

_DEREK! Derek let me in… DEREK!, Are you ok? Derek!!_

There’s a pounding sound and screams, and Kate is running her nails down his chest, he feel damp and hot, too hot and the screaming it won’t stop.

He goes in teeth and claws and blazing red eyes, he snarls and barely notices his door is hanging by bent hinges and there’s splinters everywhere, his claws tear at fabric and he can smell blood as he pushes the intruder up against the wall.

Stiles whimpers, as his head knocks against solid concrete and he hisses when he feels the sting of something hot slashing at his flesh “De-er-rek” He stutters, his whole body aches and he’s shaking “Derek let me go, please let me go” he says, and he’s openly sobbing now, he doesn’t know what’s happening and the creature holding him up is terrifying, he doesn’t even know if it’s Derek at all.

Derek’s growling, the sound vibrating off his chest as he pushes harder, the smell of panic hits him suddenly of tears and fear and urine and suddenly there’s gasping and pleading and he’s so stupid… so so stupid.

* * *

 

“I’m sorry, Oh god I’m so sorry” He is crying now desperate, like a little kid, holding the boy in his arms and rocking back and forth, he doesn’t know what to do, he just lost it, and then lost him.

“Come on beautiful open your eyes” he pleaded, still kneeling on the floor trying to breathe slower, pulling the small body against his chest “Come on Stiles, please” he begs, hiding his face against the nape of the kid’s neck and holding onto the hope that his body is warm and his heart still beating, So fast, too fast, but still beating.

“I’m so sorry beautiful, so fucking sorry” he cries again and he doesn’t even care what he must look like, half wild, covered in tears and snot and come and he’s trying, he’s trying so hard, but everything he touches dies.

He shouldn’t have touched him, he should have just closed his fucking window the second he saw him that first time, he should have ignored the instinct inside him that wanted so bad, he just… wanted so bad.

He ruins everything he cares about.

* * *

 

It starts like that.

And nothing changes, except everything does, because as soon as Stiles opens his eyes, still gasping for air a little and coughing out in a rough tiny voice “Derek… I peed my pants”

He let’s go, he can still smell urine and come, and there’s still tears staining his face, but he doesn’t give a fuck because the kid isn’t afraid, he’s embarrassed and a little shaky, but he’s holding on tight to his arm where is wrapped around that slim gorgeous waist, and he’s leaning back against his chest.

And he’s breathing again.

He couldn’t stop himself if he wanted to, and the finds out he was right.

Stiles does taste amazing as he licks into his mouth.


	9. The Monster Mash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Wolf” Stiles said then, smiling softly._
> 
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> 
>  
> 
> _And the pure, simple, easy acceptance of it ran through Derek’s body, making his chest rumble and he all but wanted to roll over and bare his fucking belly when Stiles curiously scratched softly at the skin behind his ears._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still totally full of all my mistakes! Sorry, enjoy! :D

They sat there on the floor, for what felt like the longest time just staring at each other with arms wrapped around bodies and a steadier breath.

“Come on” Derek said softly, finally breaking the silence that followed in after his kiss, getting up from the floor and pulling the kid up with him softly, ignoring the way his underwear stuck to him pulling uncomfortably, he could only imagine Stiles’ discomfort was grater.

“You can take a shower here, and there are clean clothes in the drawers, just take whatever alright?” he said, showing him into his bathroom and giving him a towel. “I’ll make you some tea” he stopped for a second, waiting for the boy to react, to say anything at all, but he just kept on staring, holding the towel loosely on one hand as if in a daze. “Yeah… ok, take your time”

He took one last look at the boy, waiting for the inevitable break down, but Stiles just looked down at the towel and gave a little nod before closing the bathroom door.

* * *

 

A monster.

That’s what Derek was, a monster, something out of children’s stories and nightmares, something that wasn’t supposed to be real.

He stood there in the bathroom, pants soiled and shirt thorn and his hands were shaking still, and he didn’t really know what was going on, he didn’t know what to do or how to react.

He didn’t really understand why he wasn’t freaking out either, he just looked at himself in the mirror as he slowly pulled his clothes off, his top was a lost cause, and his shorts would need a wash and then to be shoved off into the back of his closet where he could let them live in his deep denial of having wet himself in front of another person.

He stepped into the shower then, after a lingering look at the marks on his sides, too scared still to even dare touch them, even though he didn’t feel any pain at all.

* * *

 

“Are you real?”

The question comes suddenly form behind him, and Derek is so into making everything so perfect for Stiles that he has been making and re-making the same cup of tea for the past half hour, just so he’ll get it right, even when he has no fucking clue how the kid likes his tea, or even if he likes tea at all.

He forced himself not to listen, poured himself into the oh-so-important task of making this one perfect cup of tea that he actually jumps a little, startled by it, cursing himself for being so out of it with guilt to even notice that Stiles had actually walked down stairs.

“Derek?” Stiles says, almost shy.

He forces himself to turn around and there he is, standing against the open archway that lead to his kitchen, his arms wrapped tightly around him and the big fluffy grey sweater he’s wearing, one of the many his sister had sent him while he was… away.

He looks fucking unreal, and Derek swallows back a snort at how ironic it is that such a beautiful creature is the one who wanders if Derek is real, when Derek himself is about 90% that he made up Stiles’ perfection in his head.

“Are you real?” He asks again, his body trembling as if he’s trying to gather the will to step forward, to reach out. “There’s… the scratches” Stiles says, looking down and hugging himself tighter, and Derek really doesn’t want to, but he notices pale long legs, and he realizes the boy is wearing nothing but a pair of his underwear underneath the sweater, the hem of it reaching just above his knees and he can’t keep himself from looking.

His head snaps up at them mention of what he did, and the way Stiles’ hands seem to linger on his sides. “Fuck… are you ok?” he asks, and there is no force in the fucking universe that could have stopped him from reaching out and touching the boy, he needed to make sure.

“Did I hurt you too bad? I tried to make it better I swear” He said, voice breaking, hesitating when he went to touch him, not knowing if he was allowed to.

Stiles looked up at him, honey colored eyes that Derek found impossible to read, just stared into him.

“Show me” He said, licking his lips softly and reaching out with a shaky hand to touch Derek’s face, shaken but still unafraid, and Derek whimpered because his wolf knew that this was special, this fucking beautiful, insanely confusing boy, was special.

Stiles smiled softly, when the older man closed his eyes and nuzzled into the palm of his hand, finally allowing himself to touch Stiles’ body like he so clearly wanted to.

“I’m ok Derek, I promise” he reassured, and he still knew deep inside that he should be freaking out, screaming at the man, running away, banging down on some other neighbor’s door to seek help, but he didn’t’ want to, he didn’t feel scared, or freaked out, or even unsafe, there were fucking claw marks running from his ribs down to his hips and still, he wanted to see.

Derek was a monster, something that wasn’t supposed to be real, and yet here he was and all Stiles wanted was to see him, the real him.

“Let me see you Derek, show me please” he said softly, caressing a stubble cheek and waiting, just waiting.

Red eyes opened slowly then, looking at him, and Derek was still nuzzling into his hand, like he wanted to breathe him in.

Stiles let out a breathy little lag, and he just couldn’t fucking believe it “Holy shit!” He said, actually giggling a little.

“Fuck that is awesome” he said, taking Derek’s face with both his hands now, looking at those red eyes “And the whole… you know… thing?” he said awkwardly, making little claws with his fingers and swiping at the air, leaning back into the older man’s hands that where now holding onto his hips and just smiling, still waiting for him.

* * *

 

Derek did snort then, the whole mood changing again and he smirked, baring his fangs and letting his claws come out just enough that the kid would feel them even through the sweater.

“Jesus Christ kid” He said, too soft to be even a proper whisper, and he was hard again, his cock straining against the shorts he’d changed into as soon as Stiles shut the bathroom door on him.

“Why aren’t you scared?” he groaned then, leaning forward to nuzzle at his neck then, allowing the wolf to get a good grip on that maddening delicious scent.

 “Fucking crazy… beautiful” he murmured against the supple skin that smelled of his soap, and his detergent, like his fucking home, and Stiles just let him, cradling his head and tilting his neck to one side in a weird imitation of a hug that was just a bit shy of too intimate.

“Wolf” Stiles said then, smiling softly.

And the pure, simple, easy acceptance of it ran through Derek’s body, making his chest rumble and he all but wanted to roll over and bare his fucking belly when Stiles curiously scratched softly at the skin behind his ears.

“Can we go back to bed?” Stiles asked, pulling back a little, chuckling when Derek growled and red eyes focused on him. “Come on, take me to bed.  You can hold me better there I promise” he said, wondering a little at the changes on his neighbor’s gorgeous face, stretching his neck to kiss the heavy ridge of his brow, and then down the side to where his stubble had turned into puffed out fur, giving a little sniff when he reached his cheek, trying to imitate what the wolf had been doing to him and kissing him there and them moving still until their noses where bumping together, lips almost touching.

“Can you do it like this?” he asked softly, looking at the werewolf who had gone shockingly still.

“Kiss me again, can you do it like this?” he said, biting his lip almost a little nervous in his asking.

“My teeth” Derek said, rubbing their noses together  and shaking his head almost disappointed “Can’t make it as good” he said, his words impaired and his voice deeper in this form than it had been before.

“That’s ok” Stiles said, smiling at the stupid eskimo kiss they were still sharing “Take me to bed you big wolfie perv, I don’t wanna sleep alone” he said, leaning in and kissing him anyway, a soft press of his lips against Derek’s bottom lip, sucking at it a little before pulling back and taking the older man’s hand, pulling him along back upstairs, tea all but forgotten on the kitchen counter.

* * *

 

_“Take me to bed”_

That was all Derek could think about.

It was well past morning now and he was sitting in his ever present chair by the window, watching as Stiles walked across the street and into his father’s waiting arms, hugging the man who was just getting in from work.

He smiles softly, an actual feel-good smile instead of the overly put-upon fake ones he had been perfecting since he was sixteen. The kid is still wearing his sweater, on top of his freshly washed clothes and he spares a little glance over his shoulder, just enough to let Derek know that he is aware he’s being watched.

_“Take me to bed”_

The words keep repeating over and over in his head, and he can’t help but want to, he wanted to take the kid to bed so bad.

He hadn’t really allowed himself to do it the night before, at least not in the way he was craving, the way his body wanted to take and take and never let go.

Stiles had lead him to bed, and they did spend a few hours sleeping together, but that had been it, no more kisses, no attempts at doing anything at all, just sleep.

And by god it had been the best fucking sleep in all of Derek’s life, two hours just holding the boy in his arms, he never felt more rested.


	10. Who will love a little Sparrow?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _His wolf whimpers and scratches at his insides, and before he knows it he’s standing at the Sheriff’s door, barefoot and wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts and a knitted pull over his sister had sent him_

He can’t stop thinking about it.

The soft skin, the bright eyes full of wonder instead of fear, the steady heartbeat that spoke of nervous interest but told no lie when the boy showed curiosity instead of fear.

It had been three days, and the smell had started to fade, all over his house, his sacred, neat little hide out he had built for himself was now covered in the banishing scent of another.

And Derek was scared, of how very much he missed it.

 

* * *

 

“Mmmh… Fuck!” Stiles groaned, panting as he fell back into what was possibly the worst smelling wrestling mat in the entire locker room.

“Shit Scotty, why do we keep doing this?” he asked, rubbing at his eyes with the tips of his fingers and blinking up at the harshness of the white light.

“You better put that back before coach notices it’s gone” Scott said, ignoring the question, already jumping into his sneakers and running his fingers through his hair.

Stiles laughed, ugly and full of self-loathing, rolling over to pick up his shirt and wondering where the fuck his briefs had ended up.  

“Are you going to Lydia’s party tonight?” He asked instead, shrugging on his Henley and pulling up his jeans, hoping that whoever found his underwear, just thought some jock had forgotten it there after practice.

Scott smiled, finally turning and looking at Stiles for the first time in the last hour, eyes eager like a puppy asking for a little more time to play.

“Yeah dude” he said.

“Allison wants to hang out with Lydia before we meet up there though, wanna grab some burgers or something?” he asks, lifting up his back pack, subconsciously patting the front pocket (and suddenly Stiles knew where his soiled boxers had ended up)

Stiles snorted, looking away.

“Nah dude, got plans already with the old man” he said casually  “I don’t think I’ll make it to the party either” he shrugged, slipping his feet into a pair of beat up chucks and pushing the wrestling mat under a bench for the janitor to deal with later.

“Alright” Scott said, checking himself out in the mirror one last time “See yah!” he smiled, throwing a little wave on his way out of the locker, leaving behind a broken best friend and 2 used condoms that didn’t quite make it into the trash when he tossed them.

 

* * *

 

_“Stupid whore”_

What attracts him to his window this time, is not the sounds of passion that usually come from his beauty’s bedroom, but the sadness in the sound of guitars and the deep yet soft voices of Simon and Garfunkel , followed by that little phrase.

The boy is in pain, and is not just the odd choice of music that makes Derek realize it, but the fact that for once he’s not a spaz-tic hyperactive mess, and instead is curled up on a little sofa by his bed wrapped in a towel as if he had gotten out of the shower and just lost all will to keep going past that point.

His wolf whimpers and scratches at his insides, and before he knows it he’s standing at the Sheriff’s door, barefoot and wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts and a knitted pull over his sister had sent him, finger already pushing the doorbell as far as it would go.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles wipes his cheeks, and swallows back a sniffle, looking towards his bedroom door when the doorbell rings.

He gets up stiffly front he couch, the moisture on his skin not quite yet got from the shower he’d taken as soon as he got home.

He looks at himself in the mirror and repeats his words ‘Stupid Whore” he says softly, trying to see if anything at all has changed in him, but there is no sign.

He pulls on an oversized shirt that used to belong to his dad, and a pair of black briefs, and hopes whoever is at the door, has a good fucking reason for letting his doorbell ring on for so long.

“I’m coming! God damn it stop it!!” He yells almost tumbling down the stairs in haste to get to the door before the idiot calling wakes his dad up.

“Someone better be fucking D- d.. Derek?” He stutters a little, still holding onto the handle as he stares at his oddly dressed neighbor standing at his door.

“Where are your shoes?” he asks, with a little frown when he notices the bare feet, shaking himself and snapping his eyes back up “What are you doing here?”

 

* * *

He doesn’t really know what makes him do it, but as soon as Stiles is there, in front of him, nothing else matters at all.

Then the question registers and he takes a small step back, actually feeling a flush start at his cheek for the first since… hell he can’t even remember.

“I… I can’t smell you anymore” He says, biting his lip and looking down at his toes “In my house” he adds, looking back into those big doe eyes, pain making his heart skip at the telltale red rim ha can see.

“In my house” He repeats himself, wondering when he got so tongue tied “You’re gone… you’re scent is gone”

Stiles’ frown turns into a smile and snorts out softly “Oh my god, I can’t believe I pissed my pants cause I was scared of you” he giggles.

“You big dumb puppy” he beams, and it’s as if his entire day never happened as soon as he wraps his arms around the wolf.


	11. The life I've chosen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _With a little smile, a soft peck to the lips and a promise of “See you later wolfboy” Stiles had tumbled off the bed and just as fast out of his house, leaving him lying there, confused, hard and so incredibly turned on he had no choice but to take matter into his own hands._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags have been updated according tho this chapter.  
> There is some bad touch going on so if you can't handle that, I suggest you skip it after Derek's part.  
> Good news tho, we are getting close to the turning of Scott into WolfScott!

He wakes up with a start.

Eyes shooting open and that awful felling of falling into emptiness, the echoes of gun shots and screaming and Isaac’s body lifeless, blue eyes wide and staring as if he could still see him, see his failure.

He can breathe, he feels like he’s chocking and it’s been hours, barely seconds really, but it feels like hours until the darkness clears.

The first thing that reaches him is the scent.

Sweet and beautiful and right there, all over him.

The next thing he notices is the soft words, telling him everything’s going to be ok, and the steady heart beat against his back.

Derek takes hold of the hand around his waist and closes his eyes again, breathing his beauty in, he feels safe instead of broken, for the first time since he can remember.

 

* * *

 

 

“I should be heading home”

It’s the first thing he hears when he wakes up again, stitching and giving in to a yawn that’s more of satisfaction that residual tiredness.

He turns on his side and stares at Stiles’ profile, the boy is lying on his bed, looking up at the ceiling as if contemplating whether it would be easier to get out of bed, or just wait for it to happen on its own.

“I like you right here” he says, his voice is deep and sleep smooth, he reaches a hand out and allows himself to touch the stripe of milky white skin that’s showing between his pants and t-shirt the kid had borrowed the night before, they fit way to loose around his frame, make him look smaller, younger and Derek actually feels a little shame inside over the fact that it turns him on more than watching him undress used to do.

Stile snorts a little laugh; nasal and a little more like a soft sneeze than a laugh at all.

“I know you do” he said, turning those ember eyes to look at him, a smirk playing at his lips “I like me here too” he said “But it is getting late, and my dad is bound to realize I’m not home when he wakes up and figures out he didn't hear my alarm going off”

Derek groaned, pushing his arm under the shirt now and wrapping it around a slim but firm waist, pulling Stiles tight against his body.

“Come back to me?” he  asked softly, nuzzling the kid’s beautiful neck, and using all his restraint to keep himself from licking at the skin, biting down and marking him, his territory, his beauty.

Stiles laughed this time, out loud at the sudden pull and the ticklish sensation from Derek’s breath so close to his ear “Oh my god” he squealed, squirming a little but not pulling away.

“You are sooo needy dude” he teased with a giggle that only intensified when Derek growled against his skin, a reminder of who and what he was dealing with. “Ok ok, down Cujo!”

“I’m not a dog Stiles” Derek said, but didn't move away, his eyes still closed as he gave in a little, leaving soft kisses against sleep warmed skin.

“Mmm come on Der” Stiles moaned softly, this time trying to pull away as the kisses got bolder, going from his neck to his shoulder “I have to go, I have school” he whined, when the last kiss turned into a soft bit and the hand around his waist moved up to his chest, calloused fingers trapping a hardened nipple between them.

“Ooh god” he moaned louder now “Derek”

 

* * *

 

 

Derek howled, his back arching off of the bed, hips snapping up as his whole body tensed in release.

“Oooh God Derek”

IT kept playing over and over gain in his head, the sound clear as if Stiles was still there lying next to him, moaning for him, his name so sinfully sweet on those red full lips.

“Fuck… nggh” he groaned, falling back against his mattress, chest heaving up and down with panting breaths, his hand was soiled, dripping with semen that’d spilled over his belly and his sheets.

It hadn't gone further than that, just a few kissed and his fingers teasing over that little hardened nub he was dying to see, to taste, and god how he has wanted to.

Hi wolf had been slipping and if it wasn't for Stiles’ insistence that he had to leave, Derek wouldn't have been able to hold back any longer.

But the boy had left, with a clumsy but swift roll of his hips against Derek’s, distracting him long enough with a flash of sharp pleasure as his rock hard cock has rubbed against his beauty’s thigh.

With a little smile, a soft peck to the lips and a promise of “See you later wolfboy” Stiles had tumbled off the bed and just as fast out of his house, leaving him lying there, confused, hard and so incredibly turned on he had no choice but to take matter into his own hands.

“Fucking kid” he laughed, rubbing his clean hand over his face, still recovering from what was his first orgasm in what felt like a life time, he could feel it down to his bones and it was incredible “Gonna be the death of me” he groaned.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey” The word was soft, teasing against this ear.

“Holly shit!” Stiles screech, jumping up and banging his knee against the bench, his gear spilling onto the floor. “Warn a guy would you?!” He said, narrowing his eyes and turning around to come face to face with his best friend, former best  friend?... lover?  “You can’t just walk up to me and start humping my ass like an animal what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Oh come on!” Scott scoffed, rolling his eyes at his friend’s dramatics “first, I wasn’t humping, and second, don’t act like you don’t like it” he said pulling back and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Where were you this morning anyway?” he said, staring at him with an almost wounded look on his eyes. “Are you mad at me or something?” he asked.

“No, why would I be mad?” Stiles answered with that cutting tone only a true connoisseur of the fine art of sarcasm could muster. “How was the party? Did you enjoy it, parading yourself around with Allison when you still smelled like me?”

Scott stepped back then, as if he had been physically hit hard enough to make him move “What are you talking about” he said, looking around like he feels trapped all of a sudden and Stiles know, this is it, he’s got him and they’re going to talk about what has been happening between them, it’s now or never.

“Come on scotty, don’t play coy now, there’s no one here but us, no one to hear all about how you love to stick it up your best friend’s ass” he said, mean and nasty, letting all his pent up anger come out. “How you go running to her, with your dick still wet because it turns you on to fuck her knowing I was there first” he says, stepping closer and closer, cornering Scott against the locker’s now.

“Stiles, stop it” Scott says through clenched teeth “You don’t mean it, stop it” he’s holding back, Stiles knows, but if they don’t get it out now then their friend ships might as well be over with.

“Say it Scott, look me in the eye and say it” he’s almost pleading now, trying to keep the upper hand but it’s so hard, he loves the guy standing in front of him, he loves him as the brother he always wanted, as the best friend he once was, and yes, he even loves him a little bit and the lover who keeps denying him. “Just say it” his voice is nothing but a whisper now, and he’s standing so close.

Scott licks his lips, his eyes still shifting all over the locker room, and his hands balled up into fists at his sides, he has no place to go now, nowhere to turn to.

“I don’t” he says finally, eyes down cast and cheeks burning red “I don’t fuck her, not anymore, not since the time before last in your bedroom” his whole body’s shaking, and he wants to run.

“What?” Stiles flinches back, almost giving himself whiplash “What are you talking about? I saw you, you’re still with her” his voice is shaky, and he feels like he needs a drink of water.

“Scott snorts, a sad little sounds, like he’s disappointed in himself “I can’t fuck her ok?” he said, finally looking at his friend, his eyes not wavering now “I’ve been trying, and she thinks I’m just being really nice and taking care of her and her needs” he laughed then, ugly and angry “Truth is, the last time I tried I couldn’t even get it up cause all I could think about was how much I wanted her to be you” he said, and Stiles lost all the power then.

“I want you, Stiles” Scott took a step forward hen, and another, and other after that “Your mouth” he whispered, bringing his hand up to caress those tempting lips and he was still walking, until Stiles’ back crashed against his locker again, his uniform and gear still littering the floor at their feet. “Your fucking mouth drives me crazy, and the way you moan” he said, burrowing his face against his friend’s neck, a poor imitation of the intimacy he had shared with Derek only a few a hours ago. “I want you, is that want you wanted to hear? I want all of you”

His hands are groping at Stiles’ body now, rough and hard and unrelenting, grabbing his ass and squeezing “I want this” he groans, punctuating the action with a roll of his hips, his erection digging into Stiles’ stomach, and it feels wrong, all wrong.

“Stop” Stiles says, his voice breaking. “Please Scott stop it” he cries, when the hands stop squeezing, only to push his pants down and he fights against it, he tries.

“No, please, Scott” He said, and he feels weak now, his fingers digging into skin and pushing, and then there’s cold metal against this face and the burning ripping him apart.

And he’s still trying, but like he said.

There’s no one there to hear them.


	12. Author's note

Hi guys!

Ok here's the deal, I no longer have time to continue this work, I've tried finding a moment to really dedicate myself to writing, but rl keeps getting in the way and all I've been able to come up with is sub-par at best.

A coupe of you have stayed with me for a long time and always return with encouragement and comments when a new chapter is added. For this I am incredibly grateful.

I am choosing not to delete this work for the next 2 months, in the hopes that someone else would like to continue it, if no one does then it will be gone completely by January.

Thank you so much to those of you who read it and enjoyed it, I'm deeply regretful of not being able to go further with it.

GoodBye!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> I am opening up the floor in my search for a co-author.
> 
> English is my second language so you would act as a beta also, but will have creative liberties as you write the chapters along with me.
> 
> Some basic military knowledge (specifically Marine Corps based) is a plus, but not a requirement.
> 
> This is first and foremost a work of fiction, so not everything will be accurate concerning either the war in Iraq or Afghanistan.
> 
> I mean no disrespect.
> 
> THANK YOU!


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